Blood Lust
by apathetic-obsessive
Summary: Because there are things a lover just can’t provide...
1. Naruto

**Blood Lust**

Naruto lay on the bed, sated after a round of sex. A lithe figure among satin sheets, dispersing the passionate crimson and soothing it with his toned presence.

There was no one beside him, there never was. Not after such a night.

Sasuke had left, like he always did when Naruto handed over the controls. He left him. Leaving only an imprint. A subtle indication. And a foreboding feeling.

_Clank. Thunk. Thwack--------------_

_Drip. _

_Drip._

_Drip._

Naruto shivered. Like in every one of those nights. Getting up, he made his way to a window, opening it just slightly. At the sound of the wind howling, he slammed it back down. He wasn't in a horror movie after all.

Downstairs, the clanking continued. The muffled sound of metal smacking something disturbingly familiar. Of voices in the form of soft mumbles whose words all but seem to avoid his ears.

Then silence.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Moving away from the window, Naruto once again climbed into bed. Reclaiming the picture of perfect ease. At least externally.

Sasuke had never been normal. Not before he left. He was perfect. Not when he was gone. He was ethereal. And not when he returned. He was ominous.

The clanking renewed. The same disturbing clanks. The same metallic beats. The same brutal vigour. But it was worse. Each strike was aided with a faint slushing sound. Of pulp intermixed with the solid surface – No – of surfaces slowly degenerating into an unrecognisable mass.

Then the inhuman sound was silenced.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Naruto breathed heavily. He thought he'd grown used to it all. The sinister dripping downstairs. The twisted sound below him indicating the veiled activities underneath.

He thought that in some sick way he could find comfort in this all. An eerie reminder of his company. An assured constant in his turbulent life.

Sasuke had truly surprised them all when they met again. A surrender to them with an ultimatum of only two conditions. The first being no sanctions imposed. And the second being his relationship with Naruto.

Resuming the harsh clanks and the gross abuse of some bat and surface, the sound began to echo through the corridors. Faster. Harder. Rougher. An unnatural pounding that, with each successive hit, assaulted faster, both Naruto and the intended target.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Naruto gripped, viciously on his skin until his knuckles were white and marked with the same passionate red as his bed sheets as his flesh split open.

Gasping softly, Naruto stared at the clean slice. His blood oozing out, furthering parting the small crevice across his arm. It was like a custard bun, how easily the bread broke open and how freely the content inside flowed out tainted with a rich taste and thick texture. Naruto continued to watch, as the blood fell from his hand.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Frozen in realisation, he didn't notice the activities below. Until...

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Together, with his cold comfort, his blood dripped. Together, in some sickeningly perfect time, the dripping downstairs was accompanied with the flow of his blood. And the heart that pumped it.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

With a tightening clench, Naruto urged his twitching hand, cautiously turning the knob. He stepped outside, his hand now surging violently. And the sound downstairs.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._


	2. Sasuke

**Blood Lust**

Cold, red eyes gleamed under the curtains of darkness, delivering a single warning. Danger.

A single urge. Lust.

A lethal combination, unleashed onto everything and anything.

But _him_.

Beneath him, a cold body whimpered. Hair of one colour and skin of another. Features that never left any impression. Who it was never mattered. Who they weren't did. As long as it wasn't _him_.

Anyone but _him_.

Pleading eyes looked up at him, begging. Begging for anything. Wet, dull eyes, crying because there was nothing left. No hope, no fear. Nothing. Just begging.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

A shock of uncontrollable need surged through him. An unreasonable hunger that always lurked within. He never wanted to be like this. But everything was just too much.

'_You are weak. Why are you weak?'_ Old words that spurned so much hatred. So much pain. Meaningless, but he couldn't stop. Raising his arms, ignoring the eyes that weren't _his_, begging for the strength he never had, he continued.

_Clank. Thunk. Thwack--------------_

He stopped. Sasuke needed to control this. A situation so horrid, an urge so strong. He needed it gone, he wanted it gone. For _his_ sake as well as his own.

Naruto was above him, lying, resting. Peaceful if he could delude himself so. In a way, he knew about this. This sick habit, but he could never acknowledge it nor ignore it.

Sasuke was beneath him, lying, tortured. In a constant state of struggle, lingering between self-pity and disgust. A denial of reality and a rejection of fantasy. But never acceptance.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Itachi never intended for this. He never knew his brother would be so weak; consumed by the monster inside of him. He knew of it, _they_ all knew of it. And _they_ fought it. Why couldn't he? The burden in his hands was too much. The forces he fought were too strong. He couldn't hold it up and he probably never would. His arm shook, muscles twitched. Everything was too heavy. So he dropped his arms along with his sanity.

The sound of metal slapping flesh, of two surfaces never meant to meet under such vigour. It echoed through his body, and his soul was overtaken with a delicious shiver. He wanted this. He needed this. Even more than he hated this.

Coming to his senses, he heeded.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

God, it taunted him. Fine, ruby droplets falling so freely. Never knowing what passion it brought forth from within.

'_Foolish little brother, if you wish to kill me, hate me, detest me, and survive in an unsightly way.'_ Still now, those words mocked him. Harsh messages sent with unpredicted potency. And he fought it, every step of the way.

Until he surrendered.

And Naruto. Naruto would never understand. He would see it. The purple and red decorating the pale body in front of him. Battered and beaten, presented to him by his beloved. And his soft blue eyes would distort, morphing into disgust, rejection and fear.

For Naruto, he had tried to stop. But for Naruto, he had to relent.

_Clank. _The blond hair tainted with crimson, such a noble blend of colours.

_Clank. _The smooth skin adorned with the desperate devotions of his affections.

_Clank. _Naruto, marked and branded always and forever.

_Drip._ Then there was the cold, unresponsive body.

_Drip. _The putrid smell of rotting flesh, the sign of mortality.

_Drip. _The missing smiles and love that Naruto could only return when alive.

He could fight this. Maybe he should. He loved Naruto, he needed him. Alive. A reason to live, breathe, retain his humanity. Overcome this twisted obsession.

Maybe he could change?

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

It wasn't the corpse beside him. It wasn't the flow of a stranger's life passing through his veins.

_Naruto._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Blond hair peeked from the side of the door. Eyes swallowed by dreaded realisation. And his arm cut, generously donating blood to the ground where he stood.

"Naruto –"

The blond hair fled.

The door slammed.

Sasuke knew this would happen. Why couldn't he win? Abandon all this before _he _discovered it?

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

No longer the flow of red. No another's pain.

Clutching at his chest, clutching at his heart. Tears streamed down, faster, free and more eager than blood ever would. From a wound deeper than any he could make.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

A/N – erm... don't kill me? I have no idea why I wrote this, seems plotless and anticlimactic, but I tried. Might have an epilogue, but still no idea.


	3. The End

**Blood Lust**

Water swirled around the body, attempting to share their gentle warmth, yet submitting to the icy touch of his skin unable to ease away the pain. The body sat there emitting a similar air to the naked statue on the eve of the coldest nights, with only a shiver to indicate his continued existence.

A movement spilling water over the sides.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

That sound again.

The one that haunted him, taunted him with its very presence. Endless dripping, the mockery of his suffering. The cause of all his pain, the cause of all his loss.

Yet despite his resolution, despite his condemnation, he still wanted it, still lusted after it, that sinister sound, that suffocating hatred.

He still needed it.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Clear water spewed from its boundaries, leaping over the limits of its body and into the depths of insanity, carrying with it his mind. It was like some fatal attraction, some deadly drug, some lethal obsession. And he was caught in it. Living, breathing it in, absorbing its toxins until he submitted utterly and completely.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Like crystal droplets, shaped for an instant in time, springing to life before its sudden end, he wanted it.

But he didn't want it.

Red. He wanted red.

Thick and metallic, oozing out of the veins. Sent from the heart, with its steady pumps and returned into the ground, sinking in, contaminating it with its rich existence.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Red, it had to be red. Like red water, soothing the raging fire within him, the blaze of want, of need.

Red, it had to be red. And like a starving man upon an oasis, perhaps even a mirage, he reached, seizing the thread of his subsistence, the moment of relief for a man clutching at straws. He needed, he wanted it.

_Red._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Painfully seductive red droplets flowed from his arm, sliding down in a slick, sensual move, relinquishing to the courting of gravity, resurrecting the heat within his chilled heart.

Like the first hit after detox, the first orgasm of satisfaction hit him, soothed him; calmed him within its velvet noose. It fed him the sweetest poisons, sang of the greatest damnation and it eased him with all it had. And almost all he needed.

_Almost._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Red. It had to be red.

Red was what he needed.

Red was what he could have.

Red was all he still had.

Red because he couldn't have Naruto.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Naruto._

And what would he say? What would he do when he found him?

Sasuke, the whore of his lusts, submitting himself for the meagre rationings of life, of the essence of his body. For something Naruto could never provide.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

But Naruto left, Naruto abandoned him. He couldn't provide it so he fled, deserting him.

And Sasuke was alone.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Alone with the red that he loved._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Yet without Naruto, the dripping wasn't enough.

The pain wasn't enough.

Naruto was gone. The one reason to hold on was gone.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Taking up the blade, his lifeline and his escape...

But it no longer dripped. The small droplets of blood ceased to exist. Replaced by a steady flow of red coursing through. Of a crimson stream that transported all he had left, stole from him his last possession.

_Red._

**Epilogue**

Naruto returned to the house, the home of his love and his fears. He could never leave without Sasuke; he could never survive without Sasuke.

Sasuke was the one thing dear to him now. The one person he loved, the only person he could have left.

But the house was cold. Chilling sensations attacked at his every sense, at his every cell. And a menacing feeling crept up his spine, reaching in to his very soul. He didn't know why. He loved Sasuke, he could accept Sasuke. No matter what he did.

And then he saw it.

_Red. _

_

* * *

_Unbeta'd since I couldn't be bothered to send it over and my beta prefers maths over me (the traitor!)


End file.
